Fish Heads, Fish Heads: Only in Japan

    This week, I had a definite "Well, this really is Japan" moment when I went to lunch with a student. The format of the specific class includes a small lunch at a local restaurant. Social distancing, wearing masks, and other common pandemic protocols are in place well enough that I don't feel entirely unsafe. My student who is over 60 has already had her vaccinations so we have continued to have this class on a fairly regular basis.

    I like the little restaurant that we usually go to. It has comfortable but fun ambiance and usually the food is served in classic Japanese Bento style. Recently, the owner and chef has made a move toward other classic Japanese cuisine and it's been fine for the most part.

    The problem here, I need to stress, is not the food. It is me.

It looks lovely but wait...is that an eyeball?

    It is unfortunate that I am such a picky eater by Japanese standards. I don't mean to be, but there are several things that I literally cannot convince my palate are edible but happen to be on the average Japanese menu pretty frequently, such as mushrooms and tofu. Aside from these two ingredients, I don't usually have that many problems at least trying all of the things that the guy serves even if I can't identify them at all. I know that any perceived problems here are all about my weirdness regarding these foods, not any actual weirdness they contain. These dishes have been served in this manner in this country for likely hundreds of years. The problem is just me, being foreign, and not being able to fully enjoy some aspects.

    Today I came face-to-face with one of those aspects. This grilled fish-head dish is likely very delicious, but I have trouble eating things while looking them in the eye. I would prefer not to see any food's face. I blame my American upbringing for my inherent disgust. It's hard to look your food in the face when all of your food is so thoroughly processed that it no longer resembles the animal it came from. I come from a country where many kids don't know what a shrimp looks like in the ocean because literally the only kind of shrimp they've seen comes with cocktail sauce.

    As you can see in this later picture, I still managed to separate some of the meat around the gills and ate that. It was delicious, but I couldn't make myself eat meat from the fish's face. That was just a bridge too far for me. I did try the rest of the food and even ingested the whole of the okra with no problem, though the texture of the soupy eggplant was not to my liking. After eating half of the eggplant, I had to stop as my discriminating palate informed me that further incursions into uncharted mushy texture territory would meet with immediate food expulsion. I decided it was much better to be rude by trying the food and not finishing it than trying to force myself to finish it and vomiting all over the place.

    At least I can always eat the rice.